


The Reencounter

by JimoAki



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alastair has thoughts about it, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, Some angst but not really, Thomas has become hot, the rest of the cast of CoG appear briefly, they're young and they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22561522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimoAki/pseuds/JimoAki
Summary: Thomas Lightwood has been gone from London for a while.Alastair Carstairs is bored at a ball when he is approached by a beefier, more handsome version of the boy who used to follow him everywhere.Their reencounter ends up being very positive for both of them.
Relationships: Alastair Carstairs/Thomas Lightwood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 160





	The Reencounter

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> I am very frustrated by the fact that we still have a month to wait for Chain of Gold so I'm writing this to make myself feel better.
> 
> I don't know if this OOC obviously but I like to imagine that the boys could end up together, it would make me very happy.
> 
> I don't know where I read that Thomas had been in Spain but if I was wrong about that, I'm very sorry.
> 
> This is my first fanfic and I'm a non-english speaker so pardon my mistakes, please :)
> 
> Enjoy !

As expected, the party was a bore.

Alastair Carstairs had been more or less forced to attend this gathering of the most valuable young people in the London society, which, unsurprisingly enough, was a ploy from parents to try to get their sons and daughters to meet and get to know each other.

The fervency with which parents tried to launch their single progeny towards each other made Alastair nauseous and more than a little annoyed. He had no interest in finding a match, be it in this ballroom, in the streets of London or in his family’s damn worldly gatherings.

He had planned on sticking to his sister’s side during the entirety of the event, but Cordelia had left him as soon as she had spotted her to-be parabatai Lucie Herondale, with whom she had joyously reunited.

Alastair kept sneaking glances towards the group formed by Lucie's group of friends. There was, of course, Lucie’s brother James, who was surveying the room with an almost avid concentration, clearly looking for someone and not finding them. Every time his gaze met Alastair’s, the boy would put on the most _blazé_ face, and Alastair could feel, even from far away, the sparks shooting out of his eyes. He clearly hadn’t let go of his old grudge towards Alastair and seemed to dislike him, immensely.

Good. Alastair felt the same: he had no time to waste on a childish and reckless individual such as him, he was better than that. He had to be.

Stuck to James’ side as always, seemingly fairly inebriated already, was Matthew Fairchild. Alastair’s memories of the blond boy seemed to clash with the image he was presented with at the moment. Dressed in a highly fashionable outfit, rumpled and untidy, he looked like a man who had come to a party to escape from something through alcohol but hadn’t gotten the results he had hoped for. It didn’t help that his parabatai and best friend was paying no attention to him whatsoever, being too busy with his own search party.

 _Seems like friendship isn’t the key to everything, after all_ , Alastair thought, a little scornfully.

Alastair couldn’t see the third member of the party from where he was standing. He knew that Christopher Lightwood was here; dressed in dirty and torn off clothes he had no care for, and distracted by his thoughts of science and chaos. He had seen Christopher’s older sister Anna looking for him earlier, probably wanting to fix his appearance and make him talk to some prestigious guest or another. But she had given up at some point, figuring that her efforts would be useless. She was now vividly talking with a young lady and her mother, obviously flirting with the former while the latter tried to pretend her daughter wasn't responding to her jokes with a bright flush and an interested smile.

Anna was obnoxious like that: obvious to anyone about her intentions towards ladies, open and unashamed. Alastair saw this sort of behavior as too audacious, too dangerous for her. Not that he worried for her of course, but he despised the drama and rumors circulating the high society of London. He rather preferred when people were serious and behaved properly.

 _But at this point,_ he thought _, No one seems to be able to avoid scandals. Everyone is wretched and prone to debauchery._

Alastair was a very pragmatic person. Or at least he considered himself so. All the pleasures he enjoyed in life were a good book, a good conversation, and keeping an orderly life. He had suffered enough from other people's invasive curiosity and the fact that no one was able to keep their opinions to themselves. He had vowed to never be the subject of one such scandal, or else he would feel a shame much grander than what he constantly felt towards his family.

Bored by his own inactivity and unwilling to engage in any of the conversations he could hear in his surroundings, he took it upon himself to take a walk around the building he was in. He found architectural observation particularly relaxing, the idea of such heavy and long-lasting edifices being built by mere men was a wonder to him and he couldn’t help but reflect upon how the arts would keep evolving.

He was so enraptured by his imaginings that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching him from behind, soft but well-assured.

“Alastair, I knew I would find you here,” A low voice said.

There was a hint of familiarity in that voice; especially in the way it said his name. Yet, Alastair hadn’t a clue whom it belonged to. Ready to snap at the stranger who dared address him in such a way, he turned around.

When their eyes met, he was hit by a wave of recognition.

The person standing in front of him harboring a shy expression and a tentative smile was without a doubt Thomas Lightwood.

Thomas's voice wasn’t the only part of him that was different. Actually, his voice was the last part of him that made Alastair's eyebrows rise in consternation.

Alastair remembered Thomas as a small, sickly boy who had decided to befriend Alastair despite his other friends James and Mathew thinking that he was wrong in doing so. But he had none of the features he had had back then when he defended Alastair and stood by his side laughing at his jokes with an unstoppable joy and a friendliness that Alastair had never understood.

Even though he still had that same deep brown hair that he had always kept too long and unruly, but it was cut short, almost military-like, and fit the square shape of his jaw.

His stature had also changed. No longer bony and gangly, he was now built solidly, strong arms framing the mass of solid muscle that was his chest.

 _Good God, his hands are so big, they could crush me_ , Alastair thought briefly, then immediately shook his head to expel the thought from his mind _. What am I thinking?_

Noticing the confusion on Alastair’s face, Thomas stepped up to him and extended his hand with a little guilty smile.

“I’m sorry, how impolite of me. I’m Thomas Lightwood, I thought you would remember me”

Alastair looked down at the hand and then back at Thomas' face, which was now closer. He could examine the facial features that he used to know so well and see that most of them were still the same. Kind eyes, high cheekbones, twitching mouth.

 _He is nervous. Is it because of me?_ The possibility of him making Thomas nervous was uncomfortable to Alastair, so he stopped his observation and shook his hand.

“I know who you are Thomas, I just had some trouble recognizing you. You’re different”

A hint of blush appeared on the brown-haired boy’s cheeks, and he lifted the arm not in Alastair’s grasp to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Yes well, I was sent to the Madrid institute to train for a while. I didn’t know anyone in the city so all I did was to train.”

That much was obvious to Alastair. He didn’t say anything though.

Thomas continued “I came back a few days ago and took some time to get reacquainted with London. I was told the party tonight would be exceptionally magnificent and I couldn’t miss it so, here I am.”

“I’m guessing it isn’t as magnificent as you thought it would be if you’re here talking to me” Alastair couldn’t keep a hint of disappointment from his tone. He was guessing Thomas had come to talk to him out of politeness but wasn’t hoping that the other boy - or man rather- would stay with him for long.

Thomas frowned at his words, looking confused.

“I just arrived actually, I asked around for you and James told that you’d left the ballroom earlier” He smiled a little “He actually told me to make sure you weren’t scheming against him”

Alastair rolled his eyes at that.

“How presumptuous of him to think that I have any interest in him or his demise. Unlike him, I have consistent hobbies”

Thomas surprised Alastair by letting out a thunderous peal of laughter. His voice was so low in the high alley, Alastair felt like it was reverberating through him.

He didn’t dislike the feeling.

“Oh! You haven’t changed at all. I can’t believe that you two are still so hostile towards each other, it’s been so long!”

“He started it” Alastair answered automatically, trying the get the same reaction from Thomas again. He managed.

Once his laughter died down, Thomas looked at Alastair with a pensive expression, as if trying to summon an evasive thought. It made Alastair jittery; not being able to guess what was on Thomas's mind.

“I missed you when I was in Spain. I thought you would write to me to ask about my stay.”

Alastair looked down bashfully, not wanting to appear vulnerable.

“You didn’t write to me either. I assumed you wanted to use your stay as an excuse to stop talking to me”

Thomas was silent for a moment and Alastair didn’t know whether it meant that he had been right, or that Thomas was judging his answer, pitying him. In any case, he didn’t look up to find what his facial expression was.

“I assumed the same thing from you. I was scared that you would laugh at my attempts of keeping you as a friend, seeing how unworthy I was of your attention.”

The words were laced with an irony that triggered Alastair’s self-defense mechanisms. He snapped his head up and squinted at Thomas in fierce anger.

“Are you mocking me? Did you come here to guilt-trip me into apologizing for not sending you letters? You know me. You should know that it won’t work out.”

The snarky expression left Thomas’s face and he let out a defeated sigh.

“No that’s not what I want Alastair. I apologize for what I said. I just wanted to talk with you so we could back go to being friends. As we used to be.”

Alastair was still standing rigidly and staring at Thomas with traces of fury still in his eyes.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I’m sure you have many duties to attend to and I have mine. I’m certain your friends will be a much better company than me.”

Deciding that he was done with this conversation, seeing that his blood was still simmering and his heart was thundering in his chest, he made to leave.

_I don’t have time for friendships. I have to concentrate on keeping a low profile. I can’t deal with these ridiculous cravings of companionship, I need no one and no one needs me. I –_

But his thoughts were cut short when his arm was caught by one much stronger than his and his body was pushed until his back was pressed to a portrait, his head being prevented from hitting the frame by a cautious hand.

“What are you, a brute?" Alastair exclaimed, outraged."Is that what you actually came here to do? Take revenge on me for James and Mathew?”

Thomas huffed in exasperation, his face a few centimeters away from Alastair’s.

 _This is exactly what I was avoiding,_ Alastair thought desperately.

It was, in fact, a situation like this that he had been trying to prevent. Thomas had always been so easy to have close, such a comforting presence. In the Academy, Alastair had grown used to turning to Thomas when he needed reassurance about himself because Thomas gave out praise like it was free. It had taken Alastair years to lose the impulsion he always had to go to Thomas when he felt at his worst.

But just now, he had gotten so close to revealing himself.

So close to getting back to his old, dangerous habits.

So close to giving up on his hard-worked for autonomy and self-control.

The old Thomas would have let go of it, he would have left Alastair to deal with his tantrum on his own and then he would have come back with comforting words and support to make Alastair feel better.

This Thomas, however, seemed to be having none of it. He was decided to get something from Alastair and he wouldn’t accept lies and deception from him.

He spoke very low, so Alastair had to strain his ears to hear his words.

“I didn’t come here to be dismissed. You can’t just decide to ignore people who want to get closer to you Alastair, you have to let them through at some point.”

Even considering the way he was pinning Alastair to the wall, his arms encasing the blond man’s face, his hazel eyes still had a warmth in them that made Alastair feel safe.

Still, he was stubborn.

“I don’t _have_ to do anything. If your affections towards me have made you unable to live without my presence, I don’t see where my fault is.”

 _There,_ Alastair thought. _Now he'll leave me alone._

Thomas’s face fell swiftly, his eyes widening. But after a moment of surveying Alastair’s posture, he smirked.

 _Oh,_ Alastair shuddered. _This is bad._

“My _affections,_ you say. How cocky of you to talk about _my_ affections considering the position you’re in. You're a resourceful Shadowhunter, aren't you Alastair? You could have easily moved me aside by now. But you haven’t. You’re still here, gazing into my lovely eyes”

Alastair blushed in frustration, caught in his own game.

Of course, Thomas was right. His arms may have been a strong barrier, but Alastair knew that he could very easily duck under them, push him back, or punch him for having the audacity of manhandling him. He had done none of those things yet, hadn’t even considered them.

Being so vulnerable, completely at Thomas’ mercy, it was thrilling. He didn't want to move. He wanted more contact. Badly.

Now that he had admitted that to himself, he couldn’t ignore the desire he felt traveling through his veins. He could feel it taking over his mind and body, making his fingers shake, his mind fog.

He knew that Thomas could see how he was feeling, because as his eyes explored his face, his pupils slowly turned almost entirely black, and his smirk vanished once again.

He remained tantalizingly still for a few moments, in case he had read the situation wrong, Alastair guessed, but there was no time for that.

Simultaneously frustrated and exhilarated, Alastair caught the short hairs at the back of Thomas’ head and pushed his lips towards his.

The kiss was everything he had hoped for, and nothing like he had imagined.

He had imagined the softness of lips on his, the feeling of skin grazing his and the warmth encasing his entire body, but he hadn’t been prepared for what kissing Thomas Lightwood was like.

As soon as their mouths touched, Thomas sprung to life. One of the hands that had been resting against Alastair’s cheekbone was now tangled in his blond locks, alternately caressing and pulling at his scalp. His other hand was firmly around Alastair’s narrow waist, seemingly trying to close the distance between their bodies. As if there was any left.

Alastair was lost. He didn’t know where his attention should go.

To where his hand held onto a shoulder that seemed sculpted out of steel?

To where his lips were pried apart by a searching tongue?

To the delicious points of contact at their chests, abdomens, and thighs?

To the way his overwhelmed body couldn’t control the little sounds he was letting out without his acknowledgment?

He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t think of doing anything at all at this moment. But a part of him that wasn’t completely shut down kept nagging at him.

_You’re doing this in the middle of a corridor where anyone could see you. What would people think of you, behaving in such an impudent way?_

It was those thoughts and the sudden worry over someone telling his family about this that had him separating his mouth from the other man’s and pushing him back.

Panting heavily and trying to recompose himself, Thomas looked around the corridor, panic etched on his face

“By the Angel, I’m so sorry for my behavior. I must have gotten a little carried away.”

Alastair looked down at his clothes and seeing how disorderly they were.

 _That’s an understatement,_ he thought.

“Right, well please refrain yourself from acting like a savage next time, I have a reputation to maintain”

Since he was busy straightening his hair as much as was possible considering how tangled they had gotten, he didn’t notice that Thomas had stopped fidgeting and was now looking at him hopefully.

Alastair started sharply.

“What is it?”, he snapped.

“You said _next time._ There will be a next time?”

Alastair couldn’t stop his smile at the wonderstruck expression on Thomas’s face.

_Good God, I am doomed._

“I’m not propositioning you of course. I’m just saying that if we were to find ourselves in a place more private than this one...” He whispered.

“I understand perfectly.” Thomas mischievously said “I guess we will schedule some meetings soon. I have much to tell you about Spain, after all”

“I can’t wait to hear it.”

Thomas nodded once, smiled again and made to leave.

But after stopping abruptly he turned back, deposited a single kiss on Alastair’s lips, sweet as honey, and left him to contemplate the enormity of what had just happened.

* * *

Once it became too late for two young people to be out and about, when Alastair and Cordelia were in the carriage back on their back to their home, Alastair could think of nothing but Thomas. Even as Cordelia ranted about James and his rudeness to him, he completely ignored in favor of the memory of Thomas's hand in his hair, the feel of his skin.

Alastair had avoided meeting his eyes the whole night, worrying that he might lose his mind and decide to drag Thomas into another corner to properly debauch him.

 _It seems that Anna is very happy with being improper,_ he thought, already planning their next encounter. _I might try it for himself for a little while. I have some self-control after all, this little affair couldn't possibly get out of hand._

He was, of course, very wrong in his assumptions.

Shadowhunters aren't known to be very restrained when it comes to love.

They are, however, known to heavily meddle in each other's private lives.


End file.
